


like nobody's around

by 10softbot



Series: twenty biteen kink fest [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: Taeyong just wants to sleep, but Yuta clearly has different plans.





	like nobody's around

**Author's Note:**

> slot fill for my [2019 kink bingo](https://twitter.com/10softbot/status/1079783812693938176): in public
> 
> do not repost without permission.

Taeyong can feel a shiver run down his spine as they strut down the street, careful not to slip on ice as Yuta drags him by the arm. Winter is unforgiving as it licks his cheeks and makes them burn, dries his lips and Taeyong whines as he feels them chap. It’s not that he hates winter, but he could most definitely be enjoying the cold season under the warm comfort of his blankets, and he still doesn’t understand _why_ they have to be outside on one of the coldest days of the year.

“I want to get us new sweaters,” Yuta’s static voice had said over the phone, a little too excited for Taeyong’s liking. It was barely past ten in the morning on a Saturday when his phone rang, waking him up, and all Yuta got as a greeting was a string of curses coming from Taeyong’s end of the line.

“I don’t need new sweaters, Yuta,” he tried telling the other, eyes unable to stay open, rolling to his side and burying his face into his pillow. “It’s too early, I’m gonna hang up.”

“I got paid yesterday,” he could barely hear Yuta, and he briefly wondered how he managed to live somewhere with such bad connection. “I’m getting us new sweaters whether you want it or not. Be ready in fifteen or else I’m dragging you out of bed with my own two hands.”

Giving a copy of his key to Yuta was most definitely a mistake, and Taeyong realized that the moment he was woken up a second time, only that the second time was with cold fingers around his ankles and pulling him off bed. It was with much reluctancy and a lot of pushing around that Taeyong got into fifty layers of clean clothes and headed out, Yuta’s arm linked to his as they left Taeyong’s apartment block.

He isn’t mad. He could never be mad at Yuta, not when the other smiles so brightly as he drags them down the road even as the sharp, cold wind nearly splits his skin open. Taeyong digs his hands further down the pockets of his padded jacket, praying to god it won’t start snowing again before they reach their destination. The streets are crowded, people shuffling from shop to shop and Taeyong wonders how so many people manage to be out and about on days like this.

His feet slip on ice under him as Yuta turns a sharp corner and he nearly falls down, would have fallen straight to the ground if it wasn’t for Yuta’s arm still linked to his. Taeyong grumbles in annoyance and all Yuta does is breathe out a half apology, remembering to look at least a little bit concerned.

“We’re here, come on.”

The storefront isn’t much – in fact, Taeyong wouldn’t have ever known it was a store at all if he was walking by on his own. There is no sign, only a door that is far too low for anyone who happens to be taller than them and mannequins lining a rather narrow hallway. Yuta takes him by the hand and drags him in, down a staircase and Taeyong almost trips and falls again once his eyes adjust to the interior.

The store is _big_. It is huge, actually, and he tries not to let his jaw drop to the floor as Yuta hops down the steps. The store is packed, racks busy with customers and Taeyong almost feels overwhelmed at the amount of people around. He turns to Yuta, tugs on his hand a little to make him turn around, and there is a frown on his face when he finally does.

“What is it?” he doesn’t sound mean, but the look on his face throws Taeyong off. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“Too many people,” he manages to get out, throat dry and voice barely above a whisper, and Yuta’s expression immediately softens.

“Do you think you can hang in there just for a little while? I saw some cute sweaters I wanted to get you a couple days ago.” Taeyong chews on his bottom lip, trying not to let his mild claustrophobia peak through, and Yuta lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Taeyong nods, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. Yuta gives him the brightest smile and pecks him on the corner of his mouth, making his cheeks flare up red in embarrassment. He isn’t ashamed of demonstrating affection in public, but he is sure the girl opposite to them is staring and Taeyong doesn’t like being stared at by strangers.

“Come on, pick whatever you want,” Yuta eagers him on with a little push on the small of his back. He moves on to a rack on the far corner of the store where a variety of sweaters in light colors sit, Yuta trailing after him.

He takes his time looking through each one of them, the soft shades of blue and pink and yellow drawing him in the most. He is mindful enough to check out the price tags stuck to the hangers, would rather not have Yuta pay a fortune for something as stupid as a sweater. He can feel Yuta’s overpowering presence on his back, his breath on his hair and his eyes on him at all times.

When Yuta crowds him in and pushes him against the rack, Taeyong can’t help the surprised gasp that escapes him as he nearly knocks several hangers down. And then there is a hand sneaking under his jacket, palming his crotch lazily and Taeyong turns to look at Yuta, alarmed and a bit terrified.

“What the fuck are you _doing?_ ” he fires in hurried whispers, trying to get away from him. it is to no avail, Yuta’s arm around him securing him in place.

“Be quiet,” Yuta hisses at him, palm pressing harder down on his dick and Taeyong has to bite his tongue in order to keep down a moan threatening to build up his chest. “Pick what you want and let’s keep moving.”

Taeyong swallows down a whine, nods and turns back at the rack, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the hand on his pants. He doesn’t dare looking around, for he is sure there are people staring at them, staring at Yuta glued to his back and his hand under his jacket, and he would rather not be mortified over getting caught doing something he didn’t even intend to.

Yuta kisses the back of his head, gentle unlike the way his hand rubs him roughly over the denim of his pants, and Taeyong feels like he could cry from just that. It is not the first time Yuta pulls a stunt like this; he gets some terrible war flashback to the day Yuta thought it would be a great idea to jerk him off under a diner table on a Wednesday night, will never forget how he had to shove dirty napkins inside his backpack once Yuta was done cleaning off his fingers.

Yuta is awful, but maybe he is just as bad for enabling him and letting him do whatever he pleases with him. He would be lying if he say he didn’t like it, the way Yuta grins so wide when he knows he is getting him worked up, when he knows he is getting something out of it. Taeyong hates that he likes it so much, how Yuta’s fingers curl between his legs and cups him tightly, drawing an involuntary low moan out of him. Where Taeyong is constantly cold Yuta is a walking furnace, fingers warm even through the fabric of his pants and all he can really do is breathe out a sigh of relief.

When he picks three different sweaters, Yuta pulls his hand off and gently pushes him towards the fitting room, shoving him into a cabin and closing the door behind him. Taeyong asks himself if Yuta had been planning this since the day he said he saw the sweaters he wanted to buy – the fitting room is rather spacious, not a gap between the door and the floor or the ceiling. Taeyong suddenly feels his guts flip at the thought.

Yuta takes the hangers off his hands and hangs them on the wall, quickly getting rid of his padded jacket right after. Taeyong eyes him, frozen in place, as if his feet are glued to the floor – waiting. He waits for Yuta to be finished, for him to turn his attention back to him again, for him to cup his cheeks in his warm hands and for him to kiss him breathless. And he does, tongue warm and wet slipping past his lips with far too much ease, and it is not hard for Taeyong to melt right into his touch.

“Do you think you can keep quiet?” Yuta murmurs against his lips a little breathless, and Taeyong nods eagerly despite knowing he is probably going to fail miserably at it.

Yuta’s hands go from his face to his shoulders to push his jacket off, and it is only then that Taeyong notices the sheen layer of sweat on his own skin. Yuta burns against him, when he pushes him against the wall and mouths at his jaw, down his neck and over his sweater right above his collarbones. His fingers set his skin on fire where they slip up his sweater to run over the curves of his waist, rub over his nipple and Taeyong lets his head fall forward on his shoulder, breathy whines escaping his lips.

Taeyong wishes he had the decency to be embarrassed at how quickly he gets hard with so little, wishes it wasn’t so easy for Yuta to get him worked up, but reality is that he doesn’t actually give a fuck about it, not when Yuta’s breath is fanning his neck and his fingers play with his nipples, thigh pressing right between his legs and rubbing up against his dick. He wants to moan, he really wishes he _could_ , but instead he curses Yuta under his breath for playing him dirty like this. He hates that he loves it.

There is a moment in which Yuta gets off him completely, turns to look though his jacket pockets and Taeyong feels his heart beating in every single pulse point in his body. He quickly undoes the button and zipper in his pants, resting against the wall with his own jacket pooling around his feet as he pants, not enough air getting inside the confinement of the dressing room. His sweater feels uncomfortable on his skin and he ponders taking it off for a moment, but then Yuta is getting on his feet again and his mind immediately draws blank.

“Can you turn around for me, baby?” Taeyong would have blushed at the name if he wasn’t so used to it, so used to hear it coming from Yuta at the most random times, on and off bed. Even when it is the other way around and Taeyong is the one buried deep between his legs Yuta will still call him baby, cup his cheek and bring him down for a kiss, swallowing down his moans.

Only now they are in public, and Taeyong can hear footsteps right outside the door, and the thrill of getting caught added to Yuta calling him such thing sets him ablaze as he turns to face the wall, forearms resting against the surface as he pushes his ass out a little. Yuta hums from behind him, runs a hand over both cheeks and gives him a firm squeeze before grabbing the denim by the hem and pushing it down. He stops when it gets past his ass and no further than that, and Taeyong almost whines at feeling so constricted.

Taeyong turns his head around just in time to see Yuta rip the packet of lube and squeeze it over his fingers, shoving it down his pocket and then warming the gel in his hand. He lifts his eyes to meet Taeyong’s and he grins, wide and mischievous and Taeyong really wants to beg for him to hurry up. He doesn’t have to, though, because Yuta is quick to push a finger past his rim and Taeyong tries his best to relax.

If Yuta notices how stretched he already is he doesn’t mention it, only works his finger further up his ass, wriggling it a little. Taeyong would honestly rather die than admit it out loud he fingered himself in the shower the night before at the thought of Yuta all over him, of his fingers fisting his hair tightly and Taeyong’s mouth full of Yuta’s cock.

Yuta pushes a second in with far too much ease and Taeyong sighs at the feeling of slowly being filled up, though it isn’t nearly enough. He pushes his ass back, hoping Yuta will get the message for him to hurry. He sinks his teeth on the soft flesh of his ass as he pushes a third finger in, and Taeyong feels relieved to finally being able to whine and mewl at the stretch. It doesn’t hurt, but the burn feels pleasant enough.

“Yuta,” he breathes out, drool running down his chin as he does so, and Yuta looks up at him. “ _Please._ ”

“Only because you’ve been so good, baby.” He is definitely going to punch Yuta in the face once they’re done with this, but right now he just needs the other to _hurry_ , because he knows people are going to get suspicious soon enough.

He waits for him to fish the packet out of his pocket again, to unzip his pants just enough to get his dick out, and Taeyong nearly punches a hole through the wall when he takes his sweet time layering his dick in lube, just to tease him even further.

It’s not pretty and not comfortable in the slightest bit, the way Yuta hooks one of Taeyong’s legs over his arm and holds it up as he pushes his dick in. Taeyong has to remind himself to keep quiet, to not scream as the head of Yuta’s cock pushes past his stretched rim. He can feel his entire body shake at the feeling, claws at the wall as Yuta keeps pushing and pushing and _pushing_ , until he is balls deep inside him and Taeyong can’t even breathe.

Yuta doesn’t give him room to adjust or breathe or think, pulls back too quickly only to push back in just as fast. Taeyong gasps, too loud, the sound bouncing off the walls and right back to his ears. He can feel his eyes burn with unwanted tears welling up, can feel the sweat trickling down his back and making his sweater stick uncomfortably down his skin, can feel every drag of Yuta’s dick against his walls and it is a lot, thigh shaking as he tries hard to keep himself up.

The hipbones hitting against his ass hurt and Taeyong can’t tune down the cry that builds up his chest, can’t stop the soft whine that comes when Yuta presses him harder against the wall and fucks into him without a word. All he can hear from Yuta are muted moans and little gasps before the other presses his lips to the back of his neck, licking the sweaty skin before sinking his teeth down on him.

Taeyong cries out again, loud and melting into a moan and Yuta brings his free hand to his mouth, covering it so he will stop being so loud. He doesn’t slow down the snap of his hips, the biting on his neck and Taeyong wishes he wasn’t trapped to the point of being unable to reach for his own cock. He is so hard it hurts, but he knows he can’t come untouched. They’ve tried it before and it never really worked, much to Yuta’s dismay.

And Yuta seems to be very aware of it, pressing Taeyong harder and harder against the wall so he is unable to move no matter how hard he tries to. Taeyong knows this is on purpose, knows Yuta is chasing his own pleasure rather than doing it for the both of them, and he can’t bring himself to be mad about it. He loves to please Yuta in every way he can, and if it comes in the form of fucking in the fitting room of a packed store then so be it.

The other presses his fingers against his lips and Taeyong doesn’t hesitate to open up for him, doesn’t hesitate to soak his fingers in spit and suck on them like his life depends on it. Maybe it does, seeing as this is the only thing able to keep his moans down and he really doesn’t want to get fucking caught. Yuta picks up his pace, fucks hard into him and Taeyong feels his fingers go numb with pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He wants to moan Yuta’s name like he does best, wants to look him in the eyes and shove his tongue down the other’s throat like he knows Yuta likes. He wishes Yuta would have just told him he wanted to fuck, because then they could have done it in his apartment rather than inside this fucking store, in the comfort of his bed with him maybe on all fours as Yuta fucked him into the mattress instead of this stuffed up room.

Taeyong wants to be angry. Taeyong really just wants a lot of things and yet he is getting none of it. What he gets is his ass stuffed with Yuta, and his mouth and his thoughts, and his heart is beating so fast he could have easily thought he was getting an anxiety attack. He knows that isn’t it, not with the way his stomach coils in the right way, and he is so close to coming, so fucking close, if only Yuta would fucking _touch him_.

But Yuta doesn’t. He never does, not as he picks up his pace and all Taeyong can hear is the sound of his hips slapping against his ass, nor when he slows down in the way Taeyong knows he does when he is close to coming. Taeyong realizes he didn’t even make an effort to hit his prostate once and he wishes he knew why he starts fucking crying at that, tears streaming hot down his cheek as he chokes around Yuta’s fingers.

It is either his crying or his ass clenching tight around Yuta’s cock that makes the other come – Taeyong will never really know, and he honestly doesn’t really care. Yuta’s cum fills his ass in thick hot spurts rather quickly, his pants muffled down on Taeyong’s clothed shoulder. He ruts until he stops coming and a while after that too, fucking his come further up Taeyong’s ass until it gets too much for him and his dick starts softening.

Taeyong doesn’t know what he expected from this, but it definitely wasn’t for Yuta to just put his leg down and pull his underwear and pants back up as if there isn’t cum dripping out his fluttering hole and down his ass cheeks.  He turns to Yuta in disbelief, his dick still rock solid in his pants, and all the other does in grin at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses out.

“We both know how loud you are when you come,” Yuta says with a pat on his cheek, and Taeyong swats his hand off. Yuta chuckles at him. “I’m sure you can wait a bit longer, baby.”

“Fuck you,” is all Taeyong manages to say, heat completely lost as Yuta pulls him in for a kiss.

“We should get going,” Yuta picks his jacket off the floor and puts it back on, reaching for the forgotten hangers on the wall. Taeyong fumbles around to get his own back on, thanking every entity out there that it is long enough to hide his raging boner.

“We didn’t even try the fucking sweaters on,” he mutters as he zips the jacket back up.

“There is no need to,” Yuta shrugs, already reaching for the door. “They’re all cute, you’ll look good on them.”

Walking out of the fitting room feels ten times worse than making the walk of shame out of someone’s apartment, and the entire time Yuta just casually walks to the cashier and pays for everything Taeyong can’t bring himself to lift his eyes from his shoes. He can feel the cum still dripping out of his ass and soiling his underwear, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. He is positive everyone around them knows what went on, and he doesn’t want to look up for a confirmation.

He isn’t mad. He could never be mad at Yuta, not when the other smiles so brightly as he drags them down the road even as the sharp, cold wind nearly splits his skin open. Taeyong digs his hands further down the pockets of his padded jacket, praying to god it won’t start snowing again before they reach home.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guyes enjoyed it hehe please look forward to the next ones! kudos and comments are very much appreciated~  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/10softbot/) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/10softbot)


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